he wicked scheme of
assassination of which all honest Tories had been so much ashamed,
and she could see Captain Burford to be one of those bravoes who
were only too plentiful in those days, attending on dissolute and
violent nobles.

She was the less inclined to admit their attentions, and shielded
herself with a grave coldness of stately manners; but their talk was
far more free than at noon, suggesting the thought that they had
anticipated the meal with some of the Nantz or other liquors that
seemed to be in plenty.

They began by low bows of affected reverence, coarser and worse in
the ruffian of inferior grade, and the knight complimented Pilpignon
on being a lucky dog, and hoped he had made the best use of his time
in spite of the airs of his duchess. It was his own fault if he
were not enjoying such fair society, while they, poor devils, were
buffeting with the winds, which had come on more violently than
ever. Peregrine broke in with a question about the vessels in
sight.

There was an East Indiaman, Dutch it was supposed, laying-to, that
was the cause of much excitement. "If she drives ashore our fellows
will neither be to have nor to hold," said Sir George.

"They will obey me," said Peregrine quietly.

"More than the sea will just yet," laughed the captain. "However,
as soon as this villainous weather is a bit abated, I'll be off
across the Island to do your little errand, and only ask a kiss of
the bride for my pains; but if the parson be at Portsmouth there
will be no getting him to budge till the water is smooth. Never
mind, madam, we'll have a merry wedding feast, whichever side of the
water it is. I should recommend the voyage first for my part."

All Anne could do was to sit as upright and still as she could,
apparently ignoring the man's meaning. She did not know how
dignified she looked, and how she was daunting his insolence. When
presently Sir George Barclay proposed as a toast a health to the
bride of to-morrow, she took her part by raising the glass to her
lips as well as the gentlemen, and adding, "May the brides be happy,
wherever they may be."

"Coy, upon my soul," laughed Sir George. "You have not made the
best of your opportunities, Pil." But with an oath, "It becomes her
well."

"A truce with fooling, Barclay," muttered Peregrine.

"Come, come, remember faint heart--no lowering your crest, more than
enough to bring that devilish sparkle in the eyes, and turn of the
ne